


Warm Sunlight

by atomicwritings



Category: Eddsworld - All Media Types
Genre: Flirting, M/M, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-05-19
Packaged: 2018-11-02 12:49:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10944840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atomicwritings/pseuds/atomicwritings
Summary: A daily kitchen scene between these two partners. What hilarity will ensue next?





	Warm Sunlight

When he wakes up in a bed with the patterned quilt kicked halfway to the floor and rays of sunshine are filtering in through the windows, the first thing he thinks of doing is patting the place next to him, that smells of cinnamon and a light cherrywood scent. The waft of these flavours are enticing, and the romantic boy smiles like the flowers blooming outside, but his heavy eyes drag him down and he longs for another presence beside him.

He hears sounds bustling about in the kitchen and there’s involuntary cursing and the soft tune of music in the air, the lyrics detailing a personal playlist made up of both foreign and English songs. The boy taps his fingers along to the beat of pianos as he wanders out of the dim room, finally arriving at the kitchen where he sees the person he’s been waiting for all night.

At first, he stays absolutely silent and tries to sneak up behind the person wearing only a shirt and boxers, but he fails miserably and gets caught like a deer in headlights. He faces the person who caught him and there are black specks in his grey eyes and spots of splashed oil on his white shirt, and his light brown hair rustles along with his movements. Tom takes a double take and he assures himself that he’s never seen a more endearing sight than Tord in his nightwear, preparing a fresh batch of breakfast originally meant to be eaten in bed. The unmistakable smell of eggs and bacon in the air, the sizzling pan, the sounds Tom has grown accustomed to.

But he could never get used to the way his cheeks flare when he finds Tord by himself in the small kitchen they own, deftly whipping up food for himself or for the both of them.

“Up early?” Tord doesn’t look back, in fear of ruining the breakfast currently on the pan in his hands. He stole a few glances every now and then, admiring Tom who retreated to one of the two chairs in the kitchen, coupled with a table that already had two plates on it. Maybe it was the weather or that day’s events itself, everyday, Tom could have sworn Tord was looking out for him even in the most discreet of ways. He took notice of details that the Brit wouldn’t be bothered with, and even if he acted like an asshole at times, Tom appreciated him being around to take care of him.

“Can’t sleep.”

“Can’t sleep? You look really tired. Did something happen?” Tord turned away from the counter and looked at him concernedly, turning off the gas stove and depositing food onto the plates. He grabbed the ends of his hair and tied it up into a small ponytail. The small strands of baby hair stuck on his slicked-up neck and Tord rolled up his sleeves, exposing muscle and skin. Tom’s breath hitched and he stared down into his food, his nose almost touching the steaming eggs.

“I always look tired. In the morning and afternoon it’s all fatigue and then at night all the energy comes rushing back.”

“I doubt that’s healthy, Tom. Why not you take a nap later?” Tord settled down in his chair and took a bite out of his breakfast, his grey eyes fixated onto the table and his feet fidgeting nervously. There was obviously something off about him this morning, since he never took to the habit of preparing breakfast at 8 am.

“...What’s up with you being all caring in the morning? Is this about yesterday?” Tom probed, at which Tord lowered his head even further guiltily and tried to ignore the warm feeling in his stomach rising to his throat. Just yesterday, the two of them had fought fervently, words being thrown back and forth and Tom didn’t even get the gist of their argument. Maybe he was the one who started it, maybe he wasn’t; now he just craved the feeling of having two keening arms around him and the presence of just Tord overwhelming him.

“I...Yeah. It is about yesterday.” Tord clicked his tongue, squirming in his seat as the both of them reached the awkward topic of their conversation. None of them had gone to bed angry, since it was the ultimate recipe for emotional rifts to form, but the nagging question had provoked Tord from his sleep. He’d stayed up past midnight, just sitting in bed and casting glances at the sleeping Tom, whose sleeping state had eaten away at his confidence. Questions hung on the crevices of his mind and he was eager to wake Tom and ask him everything, but the Brit desperately needed his sleep.

Tom was complex. Not as easy as the alphabet, but he had issues that needed someone to be there for him. The drinking problem was a sore bite in the butt for both of them. Tord wanted his beloved to be satisfied, not just in general but with himself and the people around him. He had no experience of having someone so close to him get any mental diseases so if he were to describe his attempts at consoling Tom, he would have failed miserably.

“Are you not aware that I didn’t even do anything? She was the one that came onto me!” Tom gripped the table angrily, eyes burning holes into Tord’s skull. “I get that you care for me and want to see me ‘as happy as possible’, but there’s a very clear line between protective and just being overbearing!” He stabbed at his food, dumping it in his mouth and almost choking himself in the process. Tord rushed over to him and wrapped his arms around him, pushing up against his diaphragm and making him vomit out the food. The food was out and made a very unsightly mess on the floor, but Tord’s arms refused to budge and he buried his face in the nape of Tom’s neck.

“I might be overbearing, but protective isn’t the word for it.” He mumbled, running a hand over Tom’s waist and feeling him relax against him.

“Yeah? Then what’s the word? Nosy? Since your nose occupies half your face.”

“Jealous. Very, very jealous.” Tord whispered softly into Tom’s ear and he reddened, feeling his insides collapse on top of each other. “You’re so malicious, Tom. One moment you’re begging for me and the next moment you’re inviting girls of every sort to yourself. Can’t get enough of me, huh?” Without much thought, the Norwegian let his hands wander and explore the fields of Tom’s skin, some fingers caressing the most sensitive of spots and some tickling the area around his shirt. The Brit gasped and grinded his teeth, closing his eyes tightly. The images of his very own Norwegian surfaced in his mind and he couldn’t resist the agonizing and irresistible voice calling out his name, the kitchen being bathed in a heated and tense atmosphere.

“Tord--you know you can’t distract me this way, right?” Tom complained, trying to writhe from the touching yet caving into it at the time. The turmoil was too much and he was on the verge of giving in to his boyfriend’s demands. Tord’s fingers were long, slender and deplorable in all ways and they made the drinker want to stop the Smirnoff just to receive all of the tender touches and massaging.

“Baby,” Tord sighed dejectedly, turning Tom around to make him face his soft, grey eyes. “I can’t stop myself from acting violently against someone that’s taking advantage of you. Even if it was a girl, my hands just act by themselves. I have a sickness for this kind of thing.”

“What sickness?”

“It’s called love, you idiot.” Tord drew circles on his back and ran a hand through his hair, while the Brit settled on his chest and oozed himself in the warm grasp of the taller man. “I don’t want anyone disturbing you in that area of your life.”

“Oh, I see how it is. Someone’s a little insecure, huh?” Tom’s voice was soaked with understanding and he tried to find pieces of himself in his lover’s eyes, and of course there were thoughts that kept him up at night and the ever-harrowing fear that Tord would leave his sorry self for a more charming and pretty blonde girl like they had in Norway. Speaking of the country, Tom wanted to see the snow with all of his heart but he was afraid that being in his home country might trigger some unpleasant memories for his significant other.

“Look who’s talking. You’re too paranoid that I’d leave you for someone else, yeah? Too bad I’m stuck with your dumb and cute ass to go anywhere else.”

“Damn right you are.” Tom cracked a smile at last, feeling the tension in the air break away like glass and easing his tense muscles. He hated it when the two of them fought, since they were so passionate and sarcastic and complemented each other nicely, both in affection and combat. In the face of his insecurities, he could hardly stand a chance against them but with the Norwegian’s presence, he could find closure in any situation possible.

“Also, your ass is making me hard. Can we please make out on the kitchen counter before I kidnap you back to bed?” Not to mention Tord was the most straightforward guy in his life. Never mind the crude language, both in Norsk and English, he also said the most random and inappropriate things. Tom’s heart was in his mouth as he was carried to the top of the counter, their breakfast forgotten and cold, lips being brought together. Similar to how he felt the rays of sunshine prickle his skin, he felt a warm and familiar feeling collect in his stomach. Tord’s hands were grabbing his thighs so hard he was sure they were leaving bruises.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d stayed on top of the counter, but he knew one thing: Tord wouldn’t stop kissing him. His lips sought to destroy him with their delectable and plump exterior, and his tongue, oh god, his tongue slipped in and out of his mouth and down to his neck, where he repeatedly began to mark his possession with dainty and small little hickies. Tom figured, that he could cover up the lot of them with his hoodie but then again, Tord would force him to show them off to claim that he was taken, and nobody could make any advances anymore.

“Do you know how many people stare at you on the streets? Tons. I always have to glare at them to make them stop.”

“Aren’t they staring at you? I mean you’re so hot and--” Tom said breathlessly, before shutting himself up at the realization of what he just blurted out. Yes, it was true, ever since the Brit had met him, he found himself in the weirdest of stances where his face was constantly red and his hands would shiver and his legs would trip over themselves. It was a relief that Edd or Matt didn’t call him out on his behaviour or he would have been utterly embarrassed. Now, he was the one calling himself out, and he looked at everywhere except the surprised face of his boyfriend.

“You think I’m hot?” Tord let out a wan smile, and he looked endearingly at Tom, planting cheek kisses and rubbing his nose against his. “Oh man, the things I hear from you. So scandalous! One might think we were affectionately involved.” He giggled, receiving light punches from Tom.

“Of course you’re hot. I mean...you work out and your face is perfect and your laugh is contagious…” Might as well continue the line of embarrassment. Tord will be happy anyway, haha. Tom thought to himself before being engulfed in an array of kisses and crushing hugs, the both of them staring, deeply enamored with each other.

“Baby, you’re hot as fuck too.”

"Mmh. Wanna tell me something I don’t know?” Tom teased.

“Yeah. There’s gonna be loads of surprises today.”

“Like what?” Tom smirked, before promptly being carried out of the kitchen by Tord with his screams and laughter being accompanied by the kissing and touches being received. As he was carried, the two of them was bathed in the warm sunlight of morning, and that was the only jurisdiction Tom needed to make sure everything was fine. Maybe the two of them had no idea how they had gotten to this step on their own, previously being mortal enemies and all, and maybe it seemed ridiculous to be where they were today, but they were here.

And it was all that mattered.


End file.
